Metroid: The Federation
by AbsoluteDestruction
Summary: Ian Malkovich always knew he'd join the Federation military. It was the only thing he knew. His family had always bred him to be a soldier. They'd always wanted him to be just like his brother. But Ian never saw himself as "the next Adam Malkovich." The lofty heights Adam reached were nice, but not for Ian. No. Ian didn't need to be another Adam. He was happy being just Ian.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter I**

 **Beginnings**

"I'm nothing special, really."

The young man who spoke sat in a mostly empty room. It was virtually featureless, the walls were all white, and the only things accompanying the man in the room were chair he sat in the highly advanced camera. The technology allowed the viewer to view biological readings, instantly identify and research people, and even detect lies. It was to this feature- detecting lies- that caused the young man's last statement to be flagged for immediate review.

"Remember: full disclosure here recruit," a voice with no discernible origin said. "You are signing up to join the greatest organization in human history. We uphold a standard of high excellence. The excellence starts with our complete faith in our soldiers. I'll ask again: What do you believe distinguishes you-from other recruits that is?"

The "recruit" shuffled in his seat a bit, then adjusted his hair, although it was already well kept. After a brief pause, he began speaking:

"My name is Ian Malkovich. I come from a family of servicemen and women…"

* * *

Ian replayed the video log of his recruitment interview on a Galactic Federation standard issue DataPad. It was uncommon for enlisted soldiers to request a copy of their interviews. The interview process was mostly seen as an afterthought, just there for posterity's sake. Ian seemed to find some importance in it, however, constantly playing and replaying the video, scrutinizing every detail. It occasionally earned him a high eyebrow from his squad mates, but ultimately it was just seen as an odd habit.

"Still watching that old video?" A large African-American soldier asked semi jokingly (although the term "African-American" was technically inaccurate. He was a Heavyworlder from a mining colony, and so had never even been to Earth). "What, you think you missed some details? Maybe the fly on the wall was actually a mosquito?" He continued using his semi-mocking tone even as he shelved his weapon then took a seat next to Malkovich.

"I'm just admiring my pretty face, Higgs. More than I can say for you," Malkovich responded, reattaching his DataPad to his armor.

"That's not what your girl said."

"I'm single."

"… Well I'm not wrong."

Malkovich chuckled and stepped over to the dropship's gun rack. He removed his assault rifle (that is actually tied to his suits' IFF tag. It can't be removed from a gun rack or fired by anyone but him) and began checking each of its parts. He's heard plenty of horror stories about new recruits not properly examine their guns and having a malfunction on the battlefield, and did not want to become a statistic. Malkovich diligently and meticulously went through every piece of the weapon to ensure it was well maintained, from the scope to the stock. Some saw it as excessive for a newly manufactured weapon, but Malkovich was taught that one could never be too sure. As he was finishing his examination, his commanding officer stepped into the troop bay of the starship, a Federation _Aries_ -class dropship. Malkovich immediately stood at attention and called out,

"Platoon Seven, commander on deck!" at his call, all soldiers on board stood at attention and saluted. The CO stepped through the ship, taking a slight appraisal of each soldier as he passed by. The 7th Platoon was not exactly what its name suggested. A platoon typically consisted of between 15-30 soldiers; the 7th currently consisted of eight. It was less of a Platoon as it was an elite squadron serving directly under the General. The General in question oftentimes could be found on the front lines of the battle. He has been called perhaps the greatest soldier of our time. He'd respond by saying "If that's true, then I shouldn't be light-years way from the battle doing paperwork."

"At ease, Seven," he called out, while removing his helmet. "But shouldn't the squad leader call you to attention?" He turned and faced Ian specifically.

One of the soldiers saluted and said,

"Sir, my apologies, sir!"

"At ease, Sergeant. You didn't speak out of turn." The General never took his eyes off of Ian. Ian continued to face forward, away from the General. The Sergeant relaxed and said,

"Sir." The General slowly walked over to Ian who stood near the entrance to the troop bay. He took every step deliberately and methodically, finally stopping directly in front of Ian. He held a cold stare for several seconds before asking calmly,

"Why did you speak out of turn, Corporal?" Ian continued to face forward, not daring to look the General in the eye. Ian's lip quivered a bit, as if he wished to say something, but he did not yet speak. The General's face contorted into a frown. "Can you hear me, Corporal?" Ian did not respond immediately. Then said,

"Can I hear you? How can I not hear you? How can I not hear everything about you? The news, my teachers, the recruiters, my parents- everybody! Everybody keeps talking about you: The Great Adam Malkovich! The greatest soldier of our time, maybe the greatest soldier in human history! Everything you do is front page news. And then there's me. The disappointment. Everybody sees my last name and then gets disappointed when it turns out I'm not you. Even our own parents. Of course I can hear you asshole. Better question: Can you fucking hear me?"

Ian blinked and realized he'd gotten lost in thought. The General-Adam continued to stare intensely then said, "Are you deaf, Corporal?" Ian looked Adam in his eye then said under his breath,

"You know that I'm not." The General blinked and then responded with a pointed,

" _What_?" Ian readjusted to facing forward.

"No, sir!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes sir!"

"Then answer. The fucking. Question!"

"It was a force of habit sir! I learned to always address a Commanding Officer respectfully when he arrives, sir! I briefly forgot my role in the chain of command, it won't happen again, sir!" Adam continued to stare Ian down, as if considering his answer. Then said,

"See to it that you don't forget again." Adam then about faced and walked back toward the front of the ship to address the soldiers. And that was Ian's relationship with his older brother. Many people assumed (and gave him flack because) his relationship with Adam Malkovich guaranteed him a spot on the esteemed 7th, and that Adam paved the way for him. Ian, however, saw things differently. When it was discovered that he, Ian Malkovich was the brother of Adam, Ian was immediately given consideration for the 7th platoon, which Adam just as quickly shot down. Ian would have to find his way like everyone else.

* * *

Shortly after his recruitment interview, Ian found himself taking the Army placement examination. Unlike the interview, the placement exam was mentally and physically demanding. The written portion tested a recruit's potential knowledge of wartime situations. This part was actually easy for Ian because his family had been taking him through situationals for the better part of his life. The answers seemed to pour out of his brain and on to his paper, and before he or the instructors knew it, he was done. He was the first to stand and submit his paper. State of the art Federation review software was able to process and score his test immediately: _98%._ The instructor wore a confused frown, then run the test through the machine again. _Discrepancy detected, adjusting score_. The instructor wore a satisfied expression before switching to utter bewilderment as the new score was shown: _98.5%_. The instructor looked at the score, then looked up at Ian. Ian shuffled nervously.

"Did I do something wrong, ma'am?" he asked.

"Well I'd accuse you of cheating if it were possible to cheat in this room. This score should be impossible. We've given this examination to wartime geniuses and they usually don't get better than an _eighty_. Not since… Say, what's your name son?" The instructor asked. Ian shuffled again an answered,

"Ian Malkovich, ma'am."

"Malkovich? Any relation to-"

"The General? Yeah he's my older brother," Ian said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Ah, that explains it. You come from a great pedigree, you know that?"

"That's what they tell me, ma'am."

"No wonder you're so good at this. Go on, your physical is up next."

* * *

Ian was snapped out of his reverie by a light bump from Higgs.

"You weren't nodding off again, were you?" he asked, his face masked with genuine concern. Ian just looked away nervously, which was all the answer Higgs needed. "Aww, come on man! You can't keep doing that! Gotta keep ya head in the game! You do that out in the field and you might get yourself killed!"

I know, I know," Ian sighed. "I'll stay focused out in the field."

"Yeah, right. Well lucky for you, I decided to record the briefing. I'll send it to your DataPad. You'll have a couple of hours to watch it on our trip." Ian breathed a sigh of relief, then said.

"Thanks, man, you're the best, Anthony!"

"I know. You don't gotta remind me. I think I'm gonna catch some shuteye. I don't think we'll have a chance to take a good nap when we get there."

"Yeah, I may join you. Just as soon as I finish watching this." Anthony, yawned, nodded, and waved, all in one motion, before stepping out of the troop transport area of the ship to enter the Residential Quarters. Ian turned his attention to his DataPad, but before he could start watching the briefing, his Sergeant addressed him.

"Corporal Malkovich!" Ian stood at attention, then said,

"Yes, Sergeant!" The Sergeant got up close in Malkovich's face, then said with a snarl,

"What you did today was rude and out of line! Not only did you directly disrespect a General of this fine Army, undermined my authority in front of my team! If you _EVER_ do anything even remotely like that again for _as long as you live_ I will personally dump your sorry ass into a vat of fuel gel! Do I make myself clear, Corporal?"

"Yes, Sergeant!" The Sergeant shoved past Ian on his way to the Residential Quarters. When he was out of sight, Ian relaxed. Another soldier, the lone female, walked up to him and said,

"Don't worry about Sergeant Aldemir. His ego's a little bruised, is all." She regarded Ian with a smile. Ian's IFF registry identified her as PFC (Private First Class) Terri Kane.

"I hope you're right. What a way to start my first mission…" he said, going back to his DataPad. Terri's face twisted in confusion.

"Wait, this is your _first mission_?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes," Ian responded.

"You're a _Corporal_ on _the 7_ _th_ _Platoon_ and this is only your _first mission?_ " she asked, even more shocked. Ian slowly nodded.

"Permission to speak freely, Corporal?"

"Go ahead."

"I really hope you're not just here because of your brother. I've seen _10 year veterans_ die on this team," she said, with genuine concern. Ian chuckled and shook his head.

"Trust me, I'm not here because General Malkovich made a call." Terri slowly nodded, then turned and went back to inspecting her weapon.

* * *

Ian took a glance at his bio scans.

 _Subject: Ian Malkovich_

 _Planet of Origin: Daiban_

 _DOB (Galactic Standard): 9/13/20XX_

 _Age: 18_

 _Height: 6'3"_

 _Weight: 207 lbs_

 _Hair Color (if applicable): Brown_

 _Eye Color (if applicable): Brown_

 _Skin Color (or equivalent): Light_

 _Federation ID Number: 2595-09:11191_

"207?" he said to himself. "Must've gained weight."

" _Mr. Malkovich, can you please step forward?_ " a voice announced from a speaker. Ian complied, and found himself within a metal grey, featureless room. " _Thank you. Mr. Malkovich, we're just going to be running a few tests to determine your physical aptitude. During this examination we will be using hardlight holograms to simulate various objects and situations. Bear in mind: You are in no real danger, however, treat every hologram you see here as if it were real._ "

"Yes, sir."

The simulation began with basic strength and speed tests. Ian did well, although he didn't shatter any records. Usually, those would belong to the non-human Federation Troopers, of which there were quite a few. Among humans, however, Malkovich did pretty good. Which made sense because he was bred to be in his best possible shape his whole life. After the basic portion was concluded, the Combat Aptitude test began.

" _Alright, nice work. There should be a weapon being dispensed, if you would please pick it up."_ Ian did as instructed, then stepped back to the middle of the room, rifle in hand. _"Alright. I trust you know how to hold one of those. Here's a couple targets to hit._ " As he said that, the wall in front of Ian activated a holographic display of several targets in an open field. Ian fired and hit them all, usually at or near the bullseye. " _Nice shooting! But anyone can hit that. Try this…_ " On cue, the targets disappeared, then reappeared in the "distance." Ian used the scope to zoom in and hit the targets accurately. He was still mostly missed the bullseyes, but never missed a target entirely. " _Good job. Of course, you'll rarely be shooting entirely stationary targets…_ " The targets began moving, and Ian began adjusting to fire at them. The tester went through multiple configurations before determining that Ian was a very good shot, and more than prepared for the next step in the trial.

" _The Gauntlet_. _Very simple: We will send waves of combatants at you. You survive as long as you can, anyway you know how. The Gauntlet gets gradually more difficult as you go. The all-time record is 50 rounds survived. The average is 10. How will you do?"_

Ian made it to round 32 before being gunned down by a Space Pirate on a speeder bike, and only because he was pinned down by sniper fire. In doing so, he took second place all time for rookies, and 5th all-time overall. The testers were amazed.

" _Mr. Malkovich… we have to review your results… but I think it's safe to say you passed_."

* * *

Ian finished watching Adam's briefing, although he only took in the important details. The long and short of the mission is that there was recently a minor pirate attack on a colony somewhere in an outer system. Their job was to investigate the Pirate activity and neutralize any possible threats, but their first priority is to locate and secure any civilians that may be in danger. After watching the briefing, Ian took and appraisal of his fellow squad members. He decided to bring up their individual trooper dossiers.

 _Subject: Master Sergeant Tahir "Sarge" Aldemir_

 _Planet of Origin: Harran_

 _DOB (Earth Time): 5/15/2782_

 _Age: 36_

 _Height: 6'1_

 _Weight: 231 lbs_

 _Hair Color: None (Formerly Brown)_

 _Eye Color: Gray_

 _Skin Color: Light Brown_

 _Federation ID Number: 7483-75:14835_

 _Specializations (if any): None_

 _Service Record:_

 _1_ _st_ _Cylosian Contact War_

 _Kriken Empire Conflict_

 _2_ _nd_ _Cylosian War_

 _Corr'vahn Uprising_

 _G-9 Pirate Conflict_

 _Accomplishments:_

 _15 Purple Hearts_

 _1 POW Medal_

 _Army Achievement Medal_

Ian nodded in respect for the Master Sergeant's distinguished career, then moved on.

 _Subject: Staff Sergeant Keiji Misawa_

 _DOB (Earth Time): 2/17/ 2784_

 _Planet of Origin: Sakamoto_

 _Age: 34_

 _Height: 5'10_

 _Weight: 205 lbs_

 _Hair Color: Black, Streaks of Gray_

 _Eye Color: Dark Brown_

 _Skin Color: Light Tan_

 _Federation ID Number:_ _2844-06:62005_

 _Specializations (if any): Stealth and Assassination_

 _Service Record:_

 _(Before Army)_

 _Sakamoto Conflict_

 _Battle for Planet Sakurai_

 _(Army Serivice)_

 _2_ _nd_ _Cylosian War_

 _Corr'vahn Uprising_

 _G-9 Pirate Conflict_

 _Accomplishments:_

 _Sakamoto People's Army High Honors_

 _2 Purple Hearts_

 _Army Good Conduct Medal_

Ian noted that Misawa appeared to have seen quite a lot of combat before officially joining the Federation Army, which the Federation clearly took an interest in. In particular, the stealth and assassination specialist part was of certainly questionable. As Ian remembered, the Sakamoto People's Army was _against_ the Federation. Normally, people's previous combat experience is not on their military dossier. Ian made a mental note of that.

 _Subject: Corporal Anthony Higgs_

 _Planet of Origin: Orion-IV_

 _DOB: 6/18/2800_

 _Age: 22_

 _Height: 6'8"_

 _Weight: 247 lbs_

 _Hair Color: Black_

 _Eye Color: Dark Brown_

 _Skin Color: Dark Brown_

 _Federation ID Number:_ _1898-07:57940_

 _Specializations (if any): Point Man, Heavy Weapons_

 _Service Record:_

 _Serris System Conflict_

 _1_ _st_ _Moblin Contact War_

 _2_ _nd_ _Moblin Contact War_

 _Corr'vahn Uprising_

 _G-9 Pirate Conflict_

 _Accomplishments:_

 _Army Reserve Good Conduct Medal_

 _Army Good Conduct Medal_

 _Soldier's Medal_

 **Ian** noted that Anthony, who he already knows is a really good person, despite being after in the military for nearly five years, and spent most of that time as an active combatant, has never received an award for active combat. This is surprising, typically you need one combat medal just to get in.

 _Subject: Private First Class Theridza "Terri, TK," Kannapolis_

 _Planet of Origin: Kosmos_

 _DOB: 2/14/2800_

 _Age: 22_

 _Height: 5'10"_

 _Weight: 165 lbs_

 _Hair Color: Red_

 _Eye Color: Green_

 _Skin Color: Light Tan_

 _Federation ID Number: 6548-68:57218_

 _Specializations (if any): Scouting, Reconnaissance, Fast Attack_

 _Service Record:_

 _1_ _st_ _Moblin Contact War_

 _2_ _nd_ _Moblin Contact War_

 _Corr'vahn Uprising_

 _G-9 Pirate Conflict_

 _Accomplishments:_

 _4 Purple Heart_

 _2 POW Award_

 _Marine Corps Expeditionary Medal_

Ian noted that for the most part, Terri's medals were award because she was in some way damaged by the enemy. Ian wondered why someone who was a two time POW would be able to make it to the 7th Platoon. Then realized that considering the nature of who she was captured by, she likely hated to break herself _out_ before getting killed.

 _Subject: Private E-2 Lyle Smithsonian_

 _Planet of Origin: Thanatos (Now part of Kriken Empire)_

 _DOB: 10/13/2802_

 _Age: 18_

 _Height: 6'0"_

 _Weight: 195 lbs_

 _Hair Color: Brown_

 _Eye Color: Brown_

 _Skin Color: Light_

 _Federation ID Number:_ _2537-07:51290_

 _Specializations (if any): Demolitions_

 _Service Record:_

 _Kriken Empire Conflict (Home Planet was conquered)_

Note- Lyle, despite having no official combat experience, was chosen for Platoon 7 because he led a resistance movement that nearly crippled the Kriken Empire, but certainly devastated their supply chain and turned what was an important tactical asset into a useless slog.

-A. M.

 _Accomplishments:_

 _No official Federation Accomplishments_

Note- Blowing up a Kriken Capitol Warship with homemade nukes is quite the accomplishment if you ask me.

-A.M.

So Adam took Lyle because he resisted against the Kriken Empire. Hopefully he also got a full psychiatric workup.

 _Subject: Specialist Maurice Favreau_

 _Planet of Origin: Terminus_

 _DOB: 7/9/2798_

 _Age: 24_

 _Height: 6'1"_

 _Weight: 217 lbs_

 _Hair Color: Blonde_

 _Eye Color: Light blue-gray_

 _Skin Color: Pale_

 _Federation ID Number:_ _2975-07:67948_

 _Specializations (if any): Engineering_

 _Service Record:_

 _2_ _nd_ _Moblin Contact War_

 _Corr'vahn Uprising_

 _G-9 Pirate Conflict_

 _Accomplishments:_

 _Army Good Conduct Award_

 _Soldier's Medal_

Ian noted that Favreau also did not have many combat medals, but his specialization coupled with his rank led Ian to believe that Favreau did not spend much time in combat. Favreau also had a Master's of Science in Engineering, which basically confirmed Ian's theory. Favreau was a genius, and that's why he was here. Hell- Favreau was not an airman, yet flies the ship.

Ian felt like he knew enough about his team for right now. He noted that despite their differences, every member of the team had distinguished themselves in some way. The only one who had yet to accomplish anything was Ian. He started to wonder if he ever would, if he could ever live up to half the reputation of his older brother. As he did so, his eyelids began to grow heavy, and soon he found himself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: Welcome all to my newest project! For those of you who got this email because you subscribed to me because you liked Halo Prime and now you're sitting there thinking "Hey! When's this jackass gonna put up the next chapter of Halo Prime?" Fear not! Halo Prime is progressing.**

 **But I figured I'd get started on this here Metroid only fanfic because I'm _suuuuper_ excited about it. The Metroid Universe is _soooo_ rich in untapped potential, and I can't wait to explore all those little back stories.**

 **Now, I know what you're thinking: "Well okay, is Samus in it?"**

 **And the answer is yes! Samus will be making an experience. No, this one's all about Ian Malkovich and _his_ time in the Galactic Federation. Pretty neat right? And before you kill me, in my head the art style is realistic, so this is nothing like Metroid Prime: Federation Force.**

 **So I'll be working on this and Halo Prime going forward. I hope you guys enjoy both. Until next time, folks.**

 **Maximum Effort.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

 **First Deployment**

Ian was awoken as the dropship nearly reached its destination. Anthony bumped him on the shoulder, then motioned toward the gun rack. Ian's was the only one still on. Ian briskly leapt toward the rack, then removed his weapon for a quick inspection. He then placed his helmet on his head and closed the visor. As he did so, his heads up display kicked in, giving him readouts on his power suit's shields, armor integrity, thruster pack charge and his current health. In addition, his helmet displayed a minimap that marked allies and hostiles (although there were zero of the latter) in his immediate area, an ammo and grenade counter, a crosshair when his weapon is raised, and an IFF tagging system that marks his allies and display's their name and rank. His IFF system, colloquially known as a "visor" actually had several modes: Detailed View, which identifies an ally and provides a brief service record, Simple View, which only keeps initials above his allies head, and Combat View, which highlights allies as green and enemies as red. Ian kept his visor in Simple mode, as he did not need details on his teammates for the time being. After a quick check of his diagnostics, Ian was ready. Just in time, as Master Sergeant Tahir stepped into the troop bay, ready to address his team. Ian and the rest of the team stood at attention.

"I hope you're up and at 'em, team because we're closing in on this team's first deployment!" Tahir called out. "Now some of you have been on this team a little bit, so you know the drill. Most of you are due for an education. Now if you ask me, ain't no better teacher than the battlefield, but allow me to set some ground rules." Tahir paused for a moment, glancing at every soldier before him. "I'm sure you all heard the speech that you are among the best, and you'll be serving with an elite team of some of the greatest soldiers in history, taking orders directly from the general. I'm here to tell you that's all a load of horse shit." Tahir paused again, a grim smirk forming on his face. "Well some of it is true. I happen to be the best damn soldier any of you have ever met-that includes you, Malkovich. And I can say for sure Staff ain't no slouch either." Tahir motioned behind him as he said this. Ian just noticed that Staff Sergeant Misawa was standing a few feet behind Sergeant Tahir. The man's total lack of presence stood in stark contrast to Tahir's scenery chewing. "And while _I_ certainly get my orders directly from the general, _you_ get your orders directly from me and _him_." Tahir pointed at Misawa, who merely nodded.

"If you ask me," Tahir paused again, adding dramatic effect. "If you ask me, command has made yet another mistake in sending you bottom feeders to my team. The Federation likes to tell stories about our glory, well here's the facts: Most of the recruits of this team die within their first deployment. In addition, the vast majority of soldiers who qualify for Platoon 7 wash out as they cannot keep up with the high demand of our missions." Tahir seemed to actually have a look of genuine regret on his face. "Legally, because of the nature of what you are getting into, I am required to offer you a chance to leave now. This mission should be easy, but I guarantee you most aren't. We will face odds that are considered by most to be insurmountable and we are expected to _beat_ them. If this is too much for you, you are allowed to leave. No one will judge you, you will not be penalized, and we can take the steps necessary to integrate you within a more suitable unit. Just say the word."

The other soldiers seemed to shift uncomfortably a bit, but no one made a move to leave or ask to leave. Tahir nodded with the closest thing to satisfaction he could muster before shifting back into hard-ass mode. "Alright then, maggots! Looks like I've got a team that's either real brave or real stupid. We'll find out which. Now, in order to make communication easier, each of you will be assigned a call sign..."

Tahir's speech reminded him of his first day within boot camp. His examination results were both a blessing and a curse in his mind, as he was one of the rare recruits considered qualified enough to go straight for Advanced Training. In the Galactic Federation military, Advance Training is required for all Power Suit Troopers, whom make up the vast majority of the Federation Military. Only the Federation Navy, Air Force, and Police are not required to wear Power Suits. Advanced Training was actually considered slightly easier than basic, as it was assumed that a recruit had already proven themselves through basic, and now only needed to learn the inner workings of the armor they would use. Good thing too: Ian heard plenty of horror stories about Basic and wanted no part of it.

The drill sergeant still had to be a hard-ass of course, because what military training program is complete without one?

"Alrigh', maggots," _How original,_ Ian thought. "I have the profound _misfortune_ of being the man assigned to make sure none of you wastes of oxygen kill yahselves," the drill sergeant spoke with a thick cockney accent. "Person'ly, I'd rather watch ya fold yahselves into a pretzel if yah stupid enough ta do so. Unfortunately, we're no' allowed ta 'ave dat kinda fun anymore. And fer those out there judgin' me ack-sent," The drill sergeant regarded all of the present recruits. "Me name is Armstrong Houston. Look me up. Not only am I a respected Ve'eran, I'm a doctor. Got me P.H.D. in Temporal Physics from Tyrron Interstellar University." Armstrong paused again, then continued, "And I can speak perfectly well if I so choose. I just prefer my natural speaking voice, and the scientist life never appealed to me," Armstrong said, this time with a much more "proper" sounding voice.

"So wha' we'll be doin' 'ere is teachin' you 'ow ta use yer armour…"

And learn his armor he did. The process of learning how to function within a Federation Power Suit goes beyond merely wearing and moving with it. It requires focus and an understanding of one's environment. The training required simulations, physical exams, written exams, live fire exercises, and even semi-invasive surgery: once approved for power armor use, Federation recruits are required to get a neural implant at the base of their skull. This implant provides the soldier with their IFF tag, and creates a unique ID signature that allows them to have sole possession of their weapons and armor. They are also given moderate performance enhancers both for mental and physical acuity. Ian passed through Advanced Training with little trouble, having prepared for this his entire life. On his graduation day, before receiving his first official promotion from recruit to Private, Ian was approached by Sergeant Houston.

"Son, it's been a privilege and honor ta be your trainer," Houston spoke proudly.

"Thank you very much sir. The honor is all mine," Ian responded.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I know who you are. You come from a special breed. Men like me, we ain' cut out ta stand next ta men like you. You've got a bright future ahead of ya kid, I'm just proud ta have been a part of it. Unfortunately I can't let you graduate today."

"WHA-er, I mean, excuse me-sir?" Ian stuttered.

"Relax, its good news. These recruits, they'll be sent out to some random regiment. Some might be specialist, most'll just be riflemen. They'll be good soldiers I'm sure. Die for their people. You?" Houston had been gesturing and looking in no particular direction as he spoke, but now looked directly at Ian. "Well, I'm bein' asked ta inform you that yer performance has been _exemplary_ , and due to that, yer' bein' offered a spot in the Elite Federation Forces Academy. Congrats."

Ian froze up. Never had he considered he'd make EFFA, especially not in his first year. Hadn't Adam already denied his access? This couldn't be true! No, it had to be some kind of joke.

"Sir, I-"

"Yer brother had nothin' to do with the decision. In fact ta the best of my knowledge 'e opposed it. But the higher-ups couldn't ignore your work. Adam Malkovich was overruled. Son," Houston put a hand on Ian's shoulder. "You should take this opportunity."

Ian frowned at his new callsign, prominently displayed on his digital nametag. "…Junior…?" he actually said aloud.

"Don't worry, we all get shit callsigns. I got mine for being _nice_ ," Anthony said, semi-assuredly.

"Yeah, but people are gonna forget what RMG stands for. But Junior? It's both condescending _and_ links me to my brother!"

"That could be a good thing. Some people might like you for being Malkovich Jr. Give you special treatment."

"Yeah, but I don't want to be Malkovich Jr. I'm trying to make my own way, _outside_ of Adam's shadow."

"I can see that. I don't know, I think I'd have appreciated having a brother to guide me."

"That's the thing. He doesn't _guide_ me. He just beats me over the head."

"Stop," Anthony said dismissively.

"I'm so serious."

"Look, at any rate, we're landing. Look alive." Ian and most of Platoon Seven sat ready within their troop bay. The only two that did not were Maurice "Egghead" Favreau, and General Adam Malkovich. Ian glanced around. His IFF tags now displayed his team's callsigns. MSG Tahir "Sarge" Aldemir, SSG Keiji "Staff" Misawa, (those weren't really callsigns, just general terms for Sergeants) CPL Anthony "RMG (Remember Me Guy)" Higgs, PFC Terri "TK" Kannapolis, and PV2 Lyle "Buggers" Smithsonian. Each soldier stood at the ready. Sarge called out,

"We land in T-10, troopers!" Each trooper raised their weapon to be safe, and after 10 seconds passed, Sarge called out "The light is green troopers!" As he said this, the troop bay doors opened, allowing the troopers to begin funneling out. Ian was in the very back of everyone else, so he was second to last to jump, followed only by Sarge, who always pulls up the rear.

A Platoon Seven "landing" is typically not the same as most other Federation teams. Because of the fact that they frequently enter the most dangerous environments, Platoon Seven more often than not will actually _skydive_ from a moving dropship rather than land all the way. In this case, they merely chose to jump from 50 feet above ground, using the boosters in the back of their armor to slow their fall. Ian made his jump perfectly, landing in position, weapon raised in case of any unknown threats. Higgs and TK had already taken position ahead of the pack, Higgs to intercept any possibly approaching threat, and TK scanning the area with her Sniper Rifle.

"Point, Scout, we clear?" Sarge called out.

"Clear, sir!" TK and RMG said in unison.

"I see no movement in your immediate area, team," Egghead said through comms.

"Alright team, relax. Alert carry." Sarge ordered. The team complied as ordered and awaited further command. Ian looked up at the now quite far away dropship, satisfied with his first landing. He had more work to do in his first mission, but his training had done him well so far.

Ian collapsed in exhaustion. He could _perceive_ the shouts that Academy Instructors were hurling at him, but he couldn't really hear them. During his first day at the Academy, they'd insisted that only the "top one percent of the one percent that get offered a spot" make it to a position on one of the Federation's elite units. The Galactic Federation Armed Forces are _billions_ strong, yet there are only around a few thousand troops in what are considered "Elite" units. The largest and most inclusive Elite Unit is the Federation Air Force "Flyboys," an Elite Paratrooper Unit famous for their use of "Wingsuits" which in the Galactic Federation are actually capable of full-on, high speed flight. This unit has hard cap of 300 Airmen and women. The next highest would be the Federation Secret Service, whom serve as a security force to the various political figures in the Federation. There are only 200 secret service men and women. Next are the Federation Police Star Trackers, of which there are typically only 100-200 at a time. The next unit is made up of the Galactic Federation's Navy SEALS, of which there are typically only 50-80 at a time, spread throughout the galaxy. The smallest units drop of dramatically, as the Galactic Federation Army Platoon Seven only ever has _seven_ members, and the ever evolving Galactic Federation Marines Federation Force maxes out at _four_.

Ian knew that it would be a true test of both his character and his ability to secure a spot in any of the Federation's Elite Units, but had no idea that it would be _this_ difficult. At times, Elite training was downright sadistic. His first week was seven days of this schedule:

 _0400: Wake Up_

 _0410: Uniform Inspection_

 _0420: Mess Hall (_ which featured the most disgusting Military rations they could find)

 _0430: Report to Courtyard/Uniform Inspection_

 _0435: Run to training facility_ (RUN, not jog, to a testing facility TWENTY FIVE MILES away)

 _0600: Centrifuge Training_ (They put people in a Goddamn Centrifuge for twenty minutes)

 _0620: "Rest"_

 _0630: Obstacle Course_

 _0730: Centrifuge Training_

 _0750: "Rest"_

 _0800: Combat Training_

 _1000: Run to Barracks_

 _1200: Mess Hall_

 _1230: Showers_

 _1300: Uniform Inspection_ (different uniform, this one is for _school_ )

 _1310: Run to Education Facility_

 _1400: Elite Training Class Begins_ (Lateness for any reason ears a demerit-three demerits and you're out)

 _2200: Elite Training Class Ends_

 _2210: Run to Barracks_

 _2300: Lights out_

And this was _easy_ compared to the _actual_ training. Elite units were expected to do far more than the average soldier. As such, they could not be hindered by their own armor, which had a built in failsafe in order to keep a soldier from over extending and crippling themselves. The downside is that while the armor protects and gives the wearer increased strength and speed, it does not utilize the armor's systems to their full potential. This is not so for Elite units. Their armor's safeties are _removed_ meaning any false move could seriously harm them. If they jerk their head in a particular direction, their armor could over compensate and twist the helmet 360 degrees. Therefore, in order to use this armor, the wearer has to be in _complete_ control at all times, even under heavy fire or duress.

Therefore, despite the fact that Ian hated it, it was not only justified but entirely necessary that the Federation torture him with waterboarding, followed by a ten mile run with spiked weights on. But he just could not handle any more of the stress and simply collapsed. Ian faced several disadvantages: aside from the fact that the training would be impossible for an Olympian without enhancements, Ian was also young and inexperienced. In addition, whereas _most_ soldiers applying to the Elite forces are actually current soldiers who have fought in wars and are acclimatized to their neural and physical enhancements, Ian's body has not had enough time to fully accept it. As such, whereas running twenty five miles was difficult, but not impossible for most, for Ian it was like trying to swim with cement shoes. His body simply rejected what he was doing. As he laid there, he thought: _This is it. This is why Adam said I couldn't do it. Because I can't. I'm a failure_. Ian laid on the ground, waiting to get picked up and escorted away, but that would not be the case. One of his fellow trainees, a dark skinned heavy worlder, ran back to pick him up.

"What are you doing…?" Ian asked groggily.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm getting your ass outta here. No soldier left behind," the large man said.

"You're crazy. But thanks… What's your name again?" Ian asked.

"What you don't remembuh me? I'm Anthony," he responded with a smile. "Anthony Higgs."

Adam Malkovich spoke to the team on comms:

"Don't get too comfortable just yet, Seven. We've got confirmed reports of Pirate activity in this sector. Look sharp." Ian examined "this sector." They were actually on a hillside, with mostly farmland around them. There were mountains visible in the distance, and several roads into and out of a nearby forest. The roads winded into and out of the hills, rather than cutting through them. Clearly this location had not been intended for a city. There was plenty of green, and Ian assumed the fresh air would be nice. He was tempted to open his helmet for a breath of fresh air, but that would be both against protocol and generally stupid. "We dropped you a couple meters away from the last reported area of Pirate activity. The report we were given said they "saw" the Pirates but were not attacked by them. You're to speak to the locals and try to get a feel for what we're dealing with here. Also be on the lookout for any survivors. Pirates tend to be thorough, but if they missed our informants here there could be others."

"Copy that, Commander. Alright, team, you heard the man. TK, Staff, I want you each on scout duty. If it isn't a bird or a fly, I want to know _exactly_ what's approaching or leaving us within a hundred meter radius."

"Sir!" they responded in unison.

"Higgs!"

"Sir?" he responded.

"You've got point. If you see a hostile, you shoot first. If you don't wanna shoot, at least let it shoot you before the rest of us."

"It's what I do."

"Buggers, Junior!"

"Sir!"

"You're with me. Move as a unit!"

"Yes sir!" they responded. The location of the locals they were supposed to speak to appeared on their HUD. It was a building only barely visible through the nearby woods. TK and Misawa were already scouting the area, and Higgs entered the woods first. The team as a whole moved cautiously, but quickly. They never encountered any hostiles, but did not lower their guard.

"Team, I'm seeing heat signatures at our objective," Adam said through comms. "I'll do the talking here."

The team approached the objective, which was actually a house built into a hill in a clearing. They very cautiously examined the area, as it was very possible that the heat signatures inside were Space Pirates. Adam landed about 20 meters away from the house, having jumped from the dropship above. Adam held his modified Assault Rifle at the ready as well. TK and Misawa fanned out, making sure there were no hostiles in their immediate area. Higgs took point directly in front of the door to the household.

"Junior! Go knock on the door," Sarge ordered. Ian was inwardly annoyed, but complied as asked. Before he could knock however, a rotund green skinned female alien opened the door. Ian jumped back, everyone tensed up, the Lyle stepped forward and aimed his Rifle at the alien.

"Hands up! On your fucking knees!" he ordered. The woman, seemed frightened, and began speaking in a language that most of the team couldn't understand. There were two smaller aliens behind her, likely her own children.

"Relax, they're not Pirates. They're Tublins," Anthony countered. Lyle relaxed a bit, but never took his rifle off of the Tublin. "My home planet is full of them, I know them well. My Krullish is rusty, but I get the gist of what she's saying." Anthony spoke back to the alien in her language. She seemed elated that someone could speak to her. She seemed to nod in agreement to something Anthony said. Anthony then faced Adam and said, "She'll answer any questions we have, she just would like us to protect her. She's been hiding underground for days." Adam considered what Anthony said, then said,

"Ask her what caused her to stay underground. Tell her to describe anything she saw." Anthony recited Adam's words to the Tublin, and she responded in kind.

"She says the 'beasts' descended on this colony about a week ago. Says they killed and stole whatever they could get their hands on. One of the kids in there is actually her brothers' child. Says his whole family is dead. Her husband went to fight them, hasn't been back in days," Anthony translated.

"Ask her what the beasts looked like." Anthony did as asked.

"She says they looked like… 'fish-men?' Excuse me, 'crab-men.' Some had actual pincers."

"That sounds like Space Pirates… does she know if they're still on the planet?" Anthony translated again. The Tublin shrugged. "I understood that one. Alright, get her back inside. Lyle?"

"Sir?" Lyle acknowledged.

"I want you to stay here and guard this house until we can extract this family. Make sure nothing gets in or out." Adam ordered.

"Yes, Commander!" Lyle saluted. Anthony ordered the Tublin back into her home, then Lyle took up a position outside the entrance.

"Alright, team. We got pretty much everything we're going to get out of her. It looks like the Pirates _were_ here and it's possible they still _are_. Despite this colony's nature there are actually a few important Federation assets we need to secure. Their locations are supposed to be hidden, but as mentioned, the Pirates are thorough. There are three locations we have to secure, one to the east of this position, another to the west. After that, we'll regroup and fly to the hidden weapons factory on this planet. I'll be splitting us into teams of three. Anthony, Misawa!"

"Sir!" they said in unison.

"You're with me. We'll be investigated a Federation listening center that went dark. Sergeant, I'll leave your team in charge of securing an asset that's supposedly still alive here: A Senator from this planet. I'm uploading the coordinates to you now."

"We'll get him out of here, Commander."

"I expect nothing less. Team, you have your orders. Let's move!"


End file.
